Oversea's
by WakeUpAndSmellTheIrony
Summary: In light of ALW's sequel to POTO I wrote this story. Annet a violinist for the orchestra in the Metropolitan Opera goes unnoticed. One night standing alone on the stage a singular event changes the course of her life forever. Mature for Sexual Content.
1. Chapter 1

**House:** Where the audience sits during a performance.

**Pit:** The orchestra typically sits in a 'pit' at the base of the stage to play so the focus is on the actors.

**Incubus:** A ghost or demon who's sole purpose is to seduce women and impregnate them with their spawn, the women rarely survive the whole pregnancy.

**Authors Note: I can't explain entirely what this is and why I wrote it at the beginning of the story. I would need to spoil and that won't fly with me. So the end of this story will have a long explanation. I have to say my inspiration was from ****Lucifer Rosemaunt and his R/E slash. (PLEASE check him out)I was never ever open to E/R until his words. I never had the intention of writing a sex scene because I thought they detracted from the story....Unless the were the story. This is inspired from true events which shall be explained at the end of the story. So most of this is sex, and some of it isn't volentary. MATURE. This is my first time writing anything like this so reviews good and bad are needed. **

Annet stood alone in the third basement of the Metropolitan Opera. Her breath exhaling in silent gasps leaving only evanescent ghosts to dance before her lips. She was dressed in a silky blue summer dress, she had changed not wanting to damage her performance dress. He had ruined the last one when he had ripped the zipper in a frantic attempt to get her out of it's binding frame. She smiled, and her lids fluttered shut as the memory danced in her mind's eye.

Darkness surrounded her for she hadn't thought to bring a light, Annet thought he would be waiting for her. But the voice, the man, her incubus, wasn't. She didn't know how long she had been standing there but she knew that her husband wouldn't miss her for a few hours yet.

She had lied to Frank, again, and she felt the guilt wracking her conscious without mercy, the feeling was only banished with his touch. Then the only thing that she could think about was the feeling of his body against hers. She had told Frank that she was visiting an old friend; a Mr. Panov to have an 'artistic discussion' with her work in the opera. She knew that Frank had no interest in the theater, but understood that the necessity of her staying late. Her work, her music, was what put the bread on their table. That was how she met him, her own personal ghost.

**::Memory::**

She and Frank had had a fight, he was passed out drunk on the couch, and she was dressing to go out. She hadn't known where she was going but to her surprise she ended back at the opera, violin in hand. It surprised her to think that she had the presence of mind to bring the violin when she had forgotten her purse.

Annet, kept a key to the service entrance in her violin case. She knew she would forget it otherwise and would have to wait for someone to let her in. She had almost missed an overture that way. If she had, it would have been a strike on her record, something she couldn't afford.

She had been standing there, her ear pressed to the door, listening frantically for a sign of someone passing by, so she could catch their attention. When, to her surprise, she heard the lock click open. It had shocked her because she hadn't heard anyone approach. But sure enough when she tried the knob again, it turned easily.

But on that night, when she was destined to meet him, she had her key. She wandered the halls aimlessly, unconcerned to the presence of others, she had known that the cleaning staff would have left hours ago. She had been alone, consumed with her thoughts, tears slipping down her pale face. She knew that her marriage to Frank was doomed, her mother had told her so from the start. Annet was stubborn, enough to keep her life with Frank together with sheer will. Things had been so good to start, so easy. To wake up in his arms, press her lips to his and arch her back to him. But then they had wanted a child. They would whisper late into the night about the names of their children. When she had missed her period one month she had ran to his job at the mill and leapt into his arms, crying with the good news. Two weeks later she had woken in a pool of blood. For weeks she fell asleep sobbing in Frank's arms. More than one time she had felt tears fall onto her face from his eyes. Their child's death bound them together in they same way as the hope of a child did. There were three more times like this, unspeakable joy, both of their lives aglow with the promise of a family. Only to be shattered in blood and pain.

It was a horrid thing to find out that she wasn't strong enough to have a child. Frank assured her that it wasn't her fault, that they could be happy on their own. But Frank grew distant, life for Annet grew monotonous and mundane. For the wont of a child the marriage was lost.

Annet was so lost in her thoughts she was surprised when she found herself on the stage. As she looked out into the House, with its ocean of expensive upholstery and woodwork, she pretended for a moment that the seats were filled with well dressed ladies and gentlemen of society. She didn't bother to look down into the pit, it was empty in this dream. She was the sole player in this performance. With great care, she slipped her instrument out of it's case and lowered it lovingly below her chin. Unthinking, her finger's sprang to position and the bow lowered to begin. The music thundered through the massive theater leaving nothing untouched.

The shape of a woman standing alone on a darkened stage, small and insignificant in the immense blackness that consumed the theater. She stood, 'a shade within the shade' moving in ways with the music that men could only dream about in the hot solitude of the night.

She still thought herself alone, although she had not been for some time. He had given no hint to his presence, no footfall betrayed his approach. His noiseless hunt was one of a well practiced air. She didn't stand a chance.


	2. Chapter 2

**Authors Note: Here be rape. Be warned. ^^ **

It was rape. There is no other word for what transpired that night. There was no foreplay, no seduction, no attempt to learn names. She was simply grabbed from behind and thrown to the floor, her violin shattering on the ground next to her.

Suddenly he was on top of her, tearing at her dress. She had tried to fight him off, tried to run. She had kicked and screamed but she knew upon entering the building that no one would be there. She cursed herself for her foolishness.

Her attacker pinned her arms down and his hot breath stung her face. It was a sickening thought, but, he seemed to enjoy her screaming. He covered her throat with his mouth to feel the vibrations generated. She squirmed in an attempt to free herself, moaning softly when her efforts failed. He chuckled, seemingly enjoying that as well. He moved his hips with Annet's, pressing to get closer to her, taunting her for her weakness. She whimpered and tried to jerk her head away when his lips trailed up to her ear and bit down. Tugging her pearl earring painfully in between his teeth. Annet felt something warm drip down her neck, she wasn't sure if she was bleeding or if it was his saliva.

"No." She moaned, tears filling her eyes. "Please, I have a husband...please." Frank's face appeared in her mind, she wondered if she would ever see him again. "Oh, God." she whispered in prayer, as his free hand moved down to the hem of her dress, pulling it up. It rose almost eagerly to stop below her breasts.

His thin icy fingers trailed down her exposed torso, to explore her thighs and the silky secrets between. She gasped and began to struggle with renewed earnest. She had to get away, if she could just get her arms free. He began to laugh once more and wriggled his thighs against her Annet desperately tried to ignore the insistent pressure that was building against her leg.

"Don't stop" he whispered mockingly. His voice was soft, like spider's silk, it spun down into her ears and stuck in delicate threads in the corners of her mind.

Annet whimpered piteously, looked away and tried to focus on the grain of the wood floor, trying to remove her thoughts from what was happening. She hoped to God that it wasn't the last thing she ever saw.

"P-please." she pleaded once more.

His tongue raked the tender flesh of her neck and bit down, she was sure he broke the skin. The contrast between the heat of his mouth and the typical theater chill was stunning. His hot gasping breaths made her skin prickle and she shivered involuntarily.

She unwillingly observed something odd about the man as he nuzzled his face into her flesh. Something she couldn't place at first, but when she did shock and revulsion washed over her anew. He had no nose. The thought ran over and over in her mind like a broken record. Her body was shaking uncontrollably now and her eyes grew wide. He stopped moving and watched her shudder for a moment.

She had to stay calm. She heard what happened to women who didn't, who fought back. She had read about their horrific fates in the morning paper. Annet did everything she could to fight the panic reveling inside her breast. She tried to detach herself from her body, trying to think of other things. To go to other places. Anywhere but where she was now. But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't ignore that pressure rising against her leg and the hot breath assaulting her neck.

She then tried to imagine that it was Frank above her, but that illusion was shattered as quickly as the first. Frank could never muster an ounce of cruelty, let alone commit the atrocity that was occurring around her, above her, and inside her. She squeezed her eyes shut, she didn't want to ever open them again.

She wanted to live, she wanted to find Frank and beg his forgiveness for the fight they had before. She wanted to drink in his features once more, breath his scent and have him make everything alright.

Her thoughts of Frank were ripped from her and she gasped as she felt her dress being torn to expose her breasts, the cold shocked her and she felt the muscles contract instantly. But the tight skin across her nipples were soon disbanded by the quick workings of the man's mouth and body. His tongue traced circular patters across her soft skin.

"Rosy," he whispered in reference to her breasts "How nice." He laughed sarcastically and kissed her cheek roughly.

She gasped and arched into him involuntarily. He paused for a moment, his lips still pressed into her skin. She could feel his teeth suddenly as he grinned.

"I know you want me." he hissed biting her neck, all the while his fingers pressed deeper into her. Demanding another reaction. She bit her lip between her teeth to hold back a moan.

"No," she blurted, fighting a shudder.

She hated her body for how it was responding to his touch. Like it would to that of a lover. When his hand drew back up her belly, the fingers sticky, he ran them over her lips, she gagged. So proud was he that he could make her body want him, even if she herself did not. She was disgusted. She was unwillingly betraying Frank inch by inch, she didn't want to believe it but the evidence on the man's fingers spoke otherwise. She prayed to every god she ever heard of for someone to burst in wrench this monster from her and save her.

When no such savior came to her, her lip trembled and she began to tremble more violently than before. She was forced to acknowledge reality, she was alone, her body was weak. Too weak to bear Frank's child, too weak to save herself.

He leaned over her face, steadying himself on his free hand, the other still binding her bruised wrists. Annet still held her eyes steadily shut, she would not, could not, bring herself to look at him. She could not risk the chance of seeing his face. The man didn't seem to notice, he ran his tongue over her tear stained cheeks. Annet felt his arm's strain to keep their balance, and she seized her chance. She shoved hard to one side, attempting to throw him off balance. She succeeded, for a moment. He fell on top of her and she desperately tried to crawl her way out from under him. She had maybe three seconds of freedom before he regained his proud seat on her hips. He laughed heartily, his head pressed to the floor by her ear. Annet knew that if she managed to live through this, that the sound of his laughter would stay with her forever.

"Did you think I would let you leave so easily?" he hissed fiercely, his mirth quenched. She beat him with her fists and he made no move to stop her. Furious, she dug her nails deep into his forearm. She wanted to make him feel as much pain as she could instill. But he moaned with mock pleasure instead. He even relocated her small hands to his chest and shoved her nails in himself. She felt his blood trickle down the palms of her hands. Annet's horror was intensified when he dragged each finger between his lips, tasting his own blood. '_freak_' was her only thought, her mouth agape.

He soon set to work again on her dress, he no longer bothered to restrain her hands. Annet had let them fall uselessly to her sides, too defeated to fight once more.

Everything she did to stave him off, he seemed to enjoy. So she lay there, like a torn up rag doll, waiting for him to finish with her. She didn't know how long he just toyed with her. Trying different things, trying to make her react, she fought with everything she had left within her to hold still. She wondered if he would let her live, she asked herself if she would truly want to. Would she be able to look at her husband again and not think of this man? These questions ran through her mind vaguely as she stared into the complete blackness that surrounded them both. Suddenly '_If a tree falls and no one is there to hear it does it make a sound? If a rape happens in the dark, does it really matter?'_ her tears ran afresh, would anyone believe her?

It hurt when he finally pushed into her, it was nothing like when she lay in Frank's arms. Frank was clumsy and tentative but he was her's and she never minded. It made him unique and endearing, sweet. She clung desperately to the memory of his husky voice, as he whispered his fierce love for her in the early dawn.

This man moving above her, was all pain and fire. In his fury shoved into her painfully, she couldn't withhold her pain and she cried out in rhythm to his movements, tears spilling down her cheeks. Her sobs echoed through the theater mingled with his grunting. Faster and faster he came at her and with a renewed sense of urgency. She had never felt a fury like this before. Her back, now bare, was being shoved continually into the stage with his movements. Her hair had been ripped free from his pins and his hands where tangled within it, feeling the shape of her skull. His power was building, he was breathing hard and fast, his fingers pulled her hair painfully. She cried out more than once. Panting, unable to catch her breath.

She felt a pressure growing inside of her, she couldn't concentrate on one specific thought. The dark world around her suddenly seemed to be on fire. The muscles stretched tight across his thin countenance suddenly grew taut, he bit her breast hard and she could feel blood trickle warm down her bare body. Her screams grew to a new height and seemed to shed the layer of fear to dawn something new. He exploded within her and let loose a low moan and sank down to cover her. Muscles slack he lay there, she could feel his heart beat against her skin, moving fast and strong. The fire ebbed away from the edges of her vision and darkness resumed. The only noise now in the immense blackness was the sound of their mingled breathing.

As the seconds past, and he still didn't make a move to speak or move, Annet felt fear move through her anew. She didn't know what to expect, she felt it hard to concentrate. She lay there her body slack and unmoving, her mouth opened to catch her breath easier, and eyes pointed past his shoulder to the heavens. Slowly, animation returned to his limbs. His fingers carefully disentangled themselves from her blonde locks and traced her face before falling to her shoulders. Not knowing what to expect she dared not move a muscle. As he drew away she thought she felt his lips brush her jaw line and she shut her eyes once more. She felt his weight lift off of her and she suddenly felt cold and exposed.

She sensed more than she saw his figure standing quietly by her head. She felt his eyes rake her body, observing the havoc he had caused. She turned her head away and he left. Her bruised, bleeding, and aching body was the only evidence that he had been there ay all. The silence fell, but she didn't take note. Her mind was filled with his sounds and her cries, she doubted they would ever leave her mind entirely. She shifted to her side and curled into a fetal position, her arms and hands trying to cover her nakedness. Frank made his way back into her mind and she wasn't entirely sure if she could face him.


End file.
